Valued Imperfection

“Perfection comes out of molds or off assembly lines… And the great irony is that we value things made by hand more than we do things that come from machines.”

~ Simon Sinek, author (Permission to Screw Up)


Perfection(ism) is a trap…the kind with shark-like teeth that require you to gnaw off a limb, to escape.  I surrendered the desire for perfection sometime back.  It’s a curse, really, made me ill; and an insanely futile exercise, because no one was impressed.  For certainly, the people who pushed me to be perfect were never gonna allow me reach their high bar.  I’ve done crazy…not going back.

Now, “improvement” is different.  My Coach is far gentler than Perfectionism, encourages each step I take; and the reward of seeing better results than I accomplished last year (or month) makes the process of progress fun.  One trick I’ve learned is to avoid comparing myself with people whose achievements I admire; I stopped comparing, and competing with them—and only measure myself kindly, according to marks on my performance wall.

Is it ironic that we value things made by hand more than what comes from machines?  I’ve known people who don’t value made-by-hand.  They demand perfection at whatever cost, and keep drawers full of warranty documents for when it fails.  So, I view whether one values what comes from an assembly line, or is hand-crafted, as “heart perspective”.

It’s a “heart thing”.  Heart and hands are so intimately connected that when I hold a gift made by someone whose heart is tied to mine, I feel their breathing, pulsing spirit in the object.  It is warm, fragrant with conversations we’ve shared about all that’s meaningful to us.  More than diamonds, I cherish a necklace of “angel” beads handcrafted by a dear sister and niece—for these women are loving angels.  And when I offer gifts from my kitchen, I hope recipients will “taste” my heart in what I’ve cooked, baked.

God knows about creating from love—His hands formed the first man, Adam, and He blew His breath into him.  He’s no “cookie-cutter” God; He makes every person different—even with twins who share similarities, there’s something unique about them, a God-ingredient.

Nonetheless, we’re not flawless…if God wanted perfect folks, He’d have quit already.  He had a better plan, JESUS—who, as His Holy Son, is the Way of reconciliation between God and fallen mankind; the perfect Sacrifice for man’s godless self-regard; the just Advocate for all who will stand before God’s throne.

I’ve made friends with “imperfection”—not so I can be slothful, but because I don’t need to be God…I’m sure that relieves His mind too.  Life, in all its muck and glory, is difficult enough without sweating the stress of perfectionism.  And seriously, who doesn’t get misty-eyed when someone says, “I made this for you”—even if you’ve no clue what it is…you know it’s “love”.

©Sandal Teaberry, 2018 ~ All rights reserved.

Winter Roses

Winter roses left at her door

Someone remembered that she

Missed him more than ever before

White petals edged with dusk and

Dew—frosted, lying against the snow

Someone remembered her heart

Was yet aching, still breaking—even though

Long years had passed—as tides which continue

Their rhythmic washing away of the shore

Someone remembered that no one now

Would bring her pale roses anymore

White winter flowers to mark the day

Someone remembered that he

Was all she’d had of love, a tattered dream

Someone remembered that he

Was pale roses—mere shadow clung to

While she walked the floors of silent dark

In solemn vigil….  What did she pray

What was she waiting, hoping for

Throughout those hours, nights of her life

Someone remembered her—clouded

Child of autumn beauty she’d been

How she breathed the peppery perfumed

Roses, and smiled when he said, “come away”

©Sandal Teaberry, 2011 ~ All rights reserved.